


Oh, to Worship at His Altar

by madrastic



Series: 14 Day Quarantine [9]
Category: The Epic of Gilgamesh
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Come Eating, Hair Brushing, Historical Accuracy, Masturbation, Multi, Polyamory, Power Play, Temple, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, mild blasphemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25116742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrastic/pseuds/madrastic
Summary: It's been a long journey and a stop at Inanna's temple to recover does sound very tempting, especially with the promise of breaking bread with an old friend again.Day 9: Preparation
Relationships: Enkidu/Gilgamesh (Mesopotamian Mythology), Enkidu/Shamhat (Mesopotamian Mythology), Gilgamesh & Shamhat (Mesopotamian Mythology)
Series: 14 Day Quarantine [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808296
Kudos: 22
Collections: 14 Day Quarantine





	Oh, to Worship at His Altar

**Author's Note:**

> I will populate this tag myself if I have to. Glossary in the end notes again. hmu for sources if you're interested, fate fans welcome but this aint fate, sorry

The temple had been quite grand, after all. Gilgamesh had been expecting the worst the entire time back to Uruk. They would have had a better time challenging the Gods than having a peaceful journey, or so he had thought. Let it not be said that the roads were not an interesting path to walk, especially when Enkidu was so eager to see all the towns and villages. The woods grow boring quickly, when they’re all one ever knows.

Of course, Gilgamesh had caved, taking his companion, his closest around, showing him where people drew water and herded the cattle and goats into their pens. The marketplace had been interesting to him, new eyes seeing the hustling and bustling of people as not something to be avoided but something exciting. It was endearing, how he watched the world with wonder and eagerness, happy just to experience all of the novel things. It would be such a shame to keep him in the palace, at Gilgamesh’s side. Routine grew rote quickly.

Suffice to say, his eyes had lit up when he walked into the temple, the palatial complex glittering with gold and streams of water. It was opulent to a fault, word sent in advance that the king would be arriving with his brother in arms. It stood tall, a testament to Goddess Inanna, her blessing clear as the sun in the sparkling pools, the glittering metals and stones.

Priestesses and attendants rushed about, working to praise the goddess that gave them life, that gave them shelter. They were dressed richly—this was quite a successful temple, they almost certainly had galu in the wings should Gilgamesh or Enkidu require them. Likely not, anything of that nature that Gilgamesh needed, he could ask his companion for. There was no need for one of Inanna’s ilk to assist them, not in that nature. It would do good for the two of them to get a blessing, though, a blessing and a visit from an old friend.

Soon enough, word of their arrival spread through the city, attendants plucking the woman in question from her day-to-day duties to welcome them. Shamhat was as radiant as usual, her robes simple, though that of a high-ranking woman. Her skirt fell to her mid-calf, short enough so as not to cause disrespect to the nobles and royalty she encountered regularly, but long enough to demonstrate her station. They were a neat white, brightly dyed fabric acting as a belt and a hem, a juxtaposition to Enkidu’s messy brown, long since dyed a more palatable color. The man had never been a fan of wearing white, complaining that it was just so attention grabbing. How could Gilgamesh argue?

The king, of course, had gone with a more traditional fare, his skirt long enough to brush against his ankles, done up in threads and beads, jewelry heavy on his neck. It wasn’t what he preferred while travelling, but he was going to be seen, to be met with the priestesses of Uruk, after all. Even if one happened to be an old friend, propriety was propriety.

“Gilgamesh, such a pleasure to see you, and Enkidu, too!” Shamhat opened her arms, her goddess’s light shining through her smile.

Beaming, Enkidu accepted her hug, not caring in the slightest how dirty he was from their journey. Oh, to be a wild man. “Shamhat! I’ve missed you dearly!”

Politely stifling a chuckle, Gilgamesh inclined his head to the woman, though he couldn’t help the way his lips turned up. It was quite hard to be anything but happy around Shamhat and Enkidu, especially when they were together. They were his fatal weakness, but not one he was particularly interested in repairing.

“How was your journey? Here from Eridu, it must have been interesting.” Shamhat was saying, leading the two of them further into the temple. “Please, I’ll make sure your chambers are prepared—I can have a bath drawn, if you’d like.”

Before Enkidu could assert that he didn’t need one, Gilgamesh cut in. “A bath would be lovely, thank you, Shamhat.”

“Beli…” His companion whined, none too happy with the concept of washing.

“You haven’t been cleaned in several days, Enkidu. You aren’t going in my bed smelling like the road.”

Shamhat did laugh at that, a thing as sharp as her wit. “Of course.” As she clapped her hands, an attendant was roused to motion, rushing off to fulfill her request. “We have some nice perfumes and oils, too. You’ll be in good hands, I promise you.”

Even still, Enkidu grumbled. The man acted like baths made him break out in hives, the lukewarm water burning him. Shamhat was well versed in his habits, though, knocking her hip against his and ruffling tangled red hair with a friendly hand. A good brush through would be good for him, his hair had managed to tangle so much that his horns were obscured somewhat, his clay-colored skin streaked with dust and dirt.

Pressing a respectful kiss to Shamhat’s cheek, Gilgamesh had to admire how soft her skin was, well cared for. Her hair, too, was lovely, the color rich and dark. She was the envy of many men, and yet here she was, close to the king and his partner. Had she not been a priestess, rumors would have surely abounded.

“You know,” she started, voice like honey and wine, “I could call for a galu if you two would like one. It wouldn’t be trouble at all.”

Gilgamesh was already shaking his head. “It’s quite alright, really.”

“As you wish.” Shrugging, she glanced at Enkidu, flicking a bit of coppery hair out of his eyes as he looked around, taking in the architecture, the murals on the walls, the outfits of the attendants.

The three of them entered into the bathing chambers, the large doors closing behind them. This chamber was smaller than those for the general populace, reserved for visiting royalty and nobility. A temple this big was bound to have them, regardless of who ran it and who lived in the city. The water had been drawn fresh, all sorts of bathing oils and cakes lined up, ready to be selected. Light streamed in from the windows, a lattice of carved stone allowing for sunlight to fill the area.

“Thank you, Shamhat, truly.” This would be quite lovely indeed. “The journey here has not been one for cleanliness, and it will be nice to wash the path off of my skin.”

“Oh, it isn’t a problem at all. I shall have clothing brought to you in the antechamber, it would defeat the purpose to get dressed back in those dirty things, right?” With a smile and a nod of the head, she informed an attendant of her job in eme-sal, the language of female gods. It might be a good idea to learn more than the basics, considering Gilgamesh only caught snippets of her fast speech.

As he rushed off, Gilgamesh beamed down at her. “How kind. Shall we undress, now? It would be ideal to bathe without much in the way of assistance.”

More orders in eme-sal, and the attendants left them, leaving just Shamhat, the king, and his companion. With a smile to Gilgamesh, Enkidu shrugged off his top, the wrapped cloth falling to the floor without regard to the embroidered beads sewn onto it. It was quite hard for the king to resist roving his eyes across his friend’s chest, strong with work and darkened by sun. As Enkidu undid the mantle around his waist, Gilgamesh noticed Shamhat giving the man an appreciative once over.

A throat being cleared moved Gilgamesh to action, stripping out of his own clothes with a bit more care. It would take far too long for it to be repaired if something tore on their journey. Shamhat simply sat on one of the carved alcoves as the two men entered the water, content to watch. There would be no time for her to join in on the fun, not with all the work that needed to be done later. Gilgamesh could appreciate that.

Selecting an oil that would do for him, Gilgamesh got to cleaning himself thoroughly, rinsing his hair and working a nice hair oil in. Now that he was washing himself, he regretted sending the attendants away. Some assistance would be nice to work his hair into the traditional style, the help with taming his locks.

Fingers on his back and a brush at the tips of his hair let him know that Enkidu had taken it upon himself to help out. Sitting back, Gilgamesh allowed it, knots tugged out as strong fingers rubbed circles into his scalp so pleasantly. A kiss was placed to the back of his neck, the breath of his companion hot against the water cooling on the king’s skin. It made him shiver, in all truth, a gentle heat making itself known in his limbs as Enkidu braided, setting Gilgamesh’s hair aside as he finished.

“There. All done.” He all but purred, voice only inches from the king’s ear.

Done indeed. It wasn’t as good as an attendant’s work, but, from Enkidu’s hands, it was perfect. Turning, Gilgamesh had to trap his companion’s lips in a kiss, gentle, insistent. It was chaste, and yet it sent sparks tumbling down the king’s spine like a sword on a grindstone. Damn Enkidu’s soft, easy lips and irreverent hands. The man was perfect, completely and utterly perfect.

As he pulled away, Gilgamesh let his hands fall down to Enkidu’s thighs. “Turn around and I’ll sort out your hair.”

The smile that played across the wild man’s face lit the stars and brought fire to man. As he twisted, handing Gilgamesh the brush, the king could feel the organ between his legs wake up at the sight of his companion’s strong, well-toned back. Moving hair aside to press a kiss against the base of Enkidu’s neck, Gilgamesh breathed in the newly cleaned scent of him, river water and forest floor and moss under the oils, The man was made for him, a creature made of clay come to life just for Gilgamesh. What could he do but cherish him?

His motions were gentle as Gilgamesh worked through knots in red hair, smoothing it down and wetting it with water when need be. Enkidu had never been one for braids and styles, preferring, instead, to wear his hair loose. It made it knot as if the man were cursed, but that was how he liked it, the wild man with a halo of fire about his head. Gilgamesh couldn’t picture him any other way, the horns atop his head like a ram’s. He was the pinnacle of divine beauty. Gilgamesh could never say it aloud, but it was clear that Enkidu was more beautiful than even gracious Inanna, mother of all.

All too soon, Enkidu’s hair was clean and brushed. The man shifted, glancing over his shoulder at his king, eyes half-lidded. That did Gilgamesh no boons, only heading directly to the little issue between his legs. A glance back revealed Shamhat, watching the two of them with an almost bored expression.

She grinned, uncrossing her legs and leaning back. “Oh, go on ahead. It isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”

Well, what more permission did they need. Laughing, Enkidu took up a vial of oil, holding it up to the priestess. She nodded, assenting that yes, that one would work just fine for their purposes. The woman knew them too well, that was what Gilgamesh’s intuition told him, that she knew them far too well. At least the two of them could give her a show, now, for the favor she had done them both. Above everyone else, Shamhat knew how insatiable Enkidu could be.

The man’s fingers were slick with oil as he hopped up on the edge of the bath, spreading his legs wide. His cock was already getting hard, twitching with excitement as he traced his entrance, toying with himself. It was certainly a sight to watch, especially as he angled himself in a way so that both Gilgamesh and Shamhat could see. As a finger buried itself within him, he groaned, chewing on his bottom lip.

Gilgamesh’s own hand gripped his cock, slowly pumping in the water as Enkidu stretched himself out, humming out a moan as his fingers danced along the spot inside him that filled his veins with pleasure, tossing his hair out of his eyes. Well, Enkidu had certainly learned from the best, and it showed. Stroking himself to hardness, Gilgamesh stopped before he went too far, it wouldn’t do to leave his partner wanting more, even if the solution was as simple as taking Enkidu in hand or sucking him off. The man  _ had _ informed Gilgamesh that his mouth was among his favorite treats.

“Ha’iru,” Enkidu sang, long since having worked three fingers into himself, “won’t you come here and take me?”

The honorific, spoken in his smooth voice, brought a blush to the king’s cheeks in a way that only Enkidu could. It was what Enkidu should have been calling him the whole time, but the two of them had settled on informality long ago, so the word was an intoxicant, an admission of a lower status, of a power exchange. Gilgamesh was in charge of this encounter now, he was the one that was going to take Enkidu, no one else.

Nodding, the king found his words, a grin spreading across his face like sunlight spilling over the horizon. “Then come here, Hirtu. You can’t expect me to go all the way over there, can you?”

A laugh graced them all as Enkidu withdrew his fingers, slipping back into the water. Gilgamesh couldn’t resist pulling him close, kissing his companion, licking into his mouth. The groan that drifted out as one of Gilgamesh’s thighs slotted between Enkidu’s could make Inanna herself envious. He swore he could taste the honey sweetness in that sound, lovely and delicious. As the wild man ground on his king’s thigh, looping his arms around his king’s neck, Gilgamesh pulled back, pressing his lips against his partner’s cheek, his jaw, his throat. According to Enkidu, the scratch of his beard against tender skin was infuriatingly teasing.

“Just take me already.” The man’s hand drifted lower, thumb swiping across the head of Gilgamesh’s cock suddenly enough to make him jump.

His words were hot on Enkidu’s skin, voice a deep rumble. “Of course, Hirtu. Your wish is my command.”

Without warning, Enkidu was in Gilgamesh’s arms, being laid back onto a shallow ledge in the bathing pools meant for sitting. His hair floated up in the water, a fiery thing that glinted and glimmered in the sunlight. Wide eyes, full of eager expectation, looked up at him, lips parted just so as Enkidu got himself ready for what was about to happen, a wild thing temporarily tamed.

A glance up let Gilgamesh know Shamhat was still watching, an easy look on her face, hand edging up her skirt to play with herself. Ah, so  _ that _ was her goal, watch her two men take each other apart while she got to have all the fun. Chewing on his lip, Gilgamesh was torn—true, the two of them did owe her a favor, but it would also be nice to have a third.

Enkidu followed his partner’s gaze, tipping his head up, calling out. The smile had infected his voice. “Shamhat, you should join us.”

“I am fine where I am, thank you. Continue without me.” Her voice was even, despite how she was toying with herself under her skirt.

With a nod, Gilgamesh kissed the underside of Enkidu’s jaw, entering the man slowly. The moan that dropped from the wild man’s lips was like the finest music he had ever heard, the tight heat of his companion’s body enveloping him. Groaning was all Gilgamesh could do, mouth dropping open in silent praise to the man he refused to part with as he began to move in slow, even thrusts. Enkidu’s body was sent from the Gods, and it very much felt like it, intoxicatingly wonderful. He was better than any alcohol Gilgamesh had ever drank.

Little moans and gasps slipped out of Enkidu as his king played him like an instrument, his fingers digging into royal skin. He was divine like this, laid out and so willing to take Gilgamesh, it was maddening. Had he not known better, he would have asserted that Enkidu was the god of pleasure and imbibement come down to walk the earth with him, leading him on the path to otherworldly carnal delights.

It was like the world faded away, thoughts and worries fading into nothing as Gilgamesh’s focus narrowed to just Enkidu, just the water around them, just the broken moans drifting through the air as he thrust harder, faster, hitting that wonderful spot inside Enkidu that made his toes curl and his head loll back, more of those gorgeous sounds being drawn out of him. If Gilgamesh heard nothing else for the rest of his life, he would die happy with his partner’s voice singing in his ears.

Out of breath, Gilgamesh felt legs tighten around him, clay thighs holding him in a vice grip as one of his hands traced its way down Enkidu’s stomach, closing around his cock. It was as if he had taken part of Enkidu’s heart, from the way he keened unashamedly, a dark blush sitting high on his cheeks. The tip of his cock leaked, the smell of his arousal clear and prominent as his king stroked him in time with his thrusts, just the way his wild man liked it. They had tamed him once before, and they would tame him again—every night, if he so desired.

“Please,” that broken moan would be enough to make Gilgamesh abandon everything he ever knew and walk into Irkalla, “please, Ha’iru.”

He could give him more. He could give him anything he ever desired. Had Enkidu asked for the sun to be pried out of the sky, Gilgamesh would be the first to cut it down, if only to see that smile again. Rutting harder, he felt Enkidu’s legs jerk and jump around him as cries were fucked out of him, chest heaving. As if possessed, Gilgamesh bent forward, licking a stripe up his companion’s neck, nibbling on the lobe of his ear as the sound of skin on skin filled the room, loud and possessive. This whole temple would know who Enkidu belonged to, who was making him feel this way. They would know that Enkidu was his, and his alone.

With the king’s name on his lips, Enkidu came, body tensing tight around his partner as his release dirtied their stomachs. He was a vice, just perfectly so around Gilgamesh as he fucked him through his orgasm, his beautiful, unearthly partner his vessel, his altar to worship the greatness that was Enkidu. He would leave offerings, he would light incense. Enkidu could ask his king to take his cock into the royal mouth, and there would Gilgamesh be, on his knees, every night.

That was what drove him over the edge, the image of himself, on his knees, servicing his companion. Stuttering out Enkidu’s name, Gilgamesh pressed his lips against the man’s neck in an approximation of a kiss again and again as he thrust weakly, spilling himself inside the man. As he panted, all he could do was breathe in the smell of Enkidu, of the oils on his clean skin, of the sweat being washed away by the water. If flowers could grow with this smell, Gilgamesh should have them all dug up and brought to his garden.

Steady hands stroked his hair as he caught his breath, soft lips pressing kisses to his brow. Glancing up, he was met with soft eyes, as dark as coal and as warm as the sun. Warmer, even. Inanna should strike him down where he lay, but it was the plain and simple truth. Above all else, Enkidu was the most beautiful creature, man or beast, to walk the land.

A flick of his eyes let the king know that Shamhat had finished with herself, withdrawing her hand from under her skirt, slick with her own arousal. With easy, steady steps, she went to kneel by the pool, smiling at the two of them. As much as they were each other’s, they were also hers. It was an immutable fact, the stars hanging in the sky and the rocks under their feet. Not even the Gods could tear them apart.

“Enkidu,” the priestess hummed, brushing aside locks of red hair with a free hand, “it seems I made a mess. Won’t you help me clean it up?”

Without a second thought, the man opened his mouth, licking and sucking at her slick-covered fingers, lapping them clean. It would have filled a lesser man with jealousy, had a lesser man been cradled in Enkidu’s arms, head laying on the wild man’s chest. Gilgamesh was not a lesser man, though. He could hear Enkidu’s heartbeat like this, a slow and steady rhythm. It was as if Gilgamesh was a tempest-tossed boat, and Enkidu was a safe harbor, his arms the sheltered bay, his heart the bustle of people on the shore.

Nothing could ever compare to this, not the finest food, not the sweetest music, not the most appealing women. None could ever hold a candle to Enkidu, even as he allowed himself to be shared by the two people he cared for the most. Some days, it felt as though Gilgamesh would die for lack of him, for lack of seeing his face, the color of river clay and studded here and there with freckles of gold, as though deposited in the silt, waiting for some lucky person to sift through it. There were divinities upon divinities to thank for him, and Gilgamesh would pray to them all if it meant he would continue to sing Enkidu’s praises.

For now, though, there was an attendant waiting outside the bathing chamber with fresh clothing and a city that had been without a king for too long. At least he would see his companion in their bedchambers. More than anything, Gilgamesh wanted to hear that beautiful voice say his name once more, just once more, and he could die a happy man.

“Hirtu, shall we be heading out? Setting Shamhat free to her duties?” As holy as ever, truly a gift sent down from the Gods.

“Of course, Enkidu. You would have to let me go, first.”

And yet, those arms just tightened imperceptibly more.

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary:
> 
> Galu - term for a holy prostitute of Inanna, could also be transgender woman that served Inanna in her romantic and sexual aspect  
> Eme-sal - A separate language used by Sumerian women  
> Beli - "Lord", a term for the more powerful partner, king, and god  
> Hirtu - Term for one's spouse, used in equal relationships, Lower than "Ha'iru" and "Beli"  
> Ha'iru - "Lord", a term for the higher ranked partner, the master of the house. A lower status than "Beli"
> 
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